Muspelheim
by PuzzlePrince
Summary: Gold has taken up the occupation of a breeder, while Silver continues to search the world for powerful pokémon. The two of them cross paths and soon find themselves tied in with the newest kingpin of the crime world. Eventual Silver x Gold. Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Muspelheim  
**Warning:** NSFW  
**A/N:** **Hey all,**

**This little plot bunny had been bouncing around my head for a long while now. Keep in mind that this takes place eight years after the game, so Gold is eighteen, and Silver is nineteen. Gold, having lived out his dreams, has finally settled down and taken up the occupation of a breeder. And Silver, after helping his father redeem himself, has begun searching each and every corner of the world for new and powerful pokémon.**

**Premise is pokémon games. Not manga, and not anime, and it's not an AU.**

**It will eventually incline towards Silver x Gold, but as I prefer to develop relationships, rather than just jump into them, that won't be for a few chapters, at the very least. No Uke or Seme roles, either. I'm previously from western fandoms, so those terms have been driven out of my head for realisms sake.**

**Feedback/suggestions are much loved. 3**

**Note: This will get darker in future chapters. It's first and foremost a drama, but there will be romance introduced eventually.**

**Note 2: much thanks to my kindly beta!**

* * *

"It's evening."

"So?"

"You've been out here since early morning."

"And you would know this, how, exactly?"

When Silver responded to the query with a dismissive grunt, Gold — who was sitting on his hands and knees before the other boy, tending to an infant pokémon — allowed them to lapse into a serene silence.

Twilight winds cut through the trees surrounding his pokémon care center and assaulted them in the most pleasant of ways. It gently ruffled their clothes and brought fine white hairs to standing point on their necks. Goosebumps ran up Gold's bare arms, but he didn't mind, and regarded the icy winds as a pleasant change from the boiling hot weather he was most accustomed to.

His knees became slick with dirt when he bent over to wrap his arms around the baby pokémon that had been put under his care. It was a tiny Horsea, no larger than his hand. As soon as he brought it up to his chest, it began to curl into itself, and into his stained wife beater in the process.

He turned his head up at Silver and beckoned him over, as he often did when the other boy was present. Which honestly, wasn't often these days. Over the course of two years, Silver had visited him without fail during the second week of every month. It wasn't as regular as Gold wanted, as he was liable to get lonely during the long intervals of time, but it was better than the years during which they'd tensely visited each other for a friendly battle every few months after their regular schedule of Thursday and Tuesday had lost it's appeal.

Silver obligingly strode closer by a couple of steps, and Gold looked up, pulled out of his thoughts. "Great," he grit out awkwardly when Gold presented the nervous pokémon.

It shied away from Silver and buried itself deeper into the flimsy frantic of Gold's shirt. "And here I thought you'd call it weak," Gold teased. "It was born about a week ago. The mother's trainer ought to return soon."

Silver nodded, but didn't comment. He bent down to closely inspect the infant pokémon. "Haven't you already looked after one of these?"

"Yeah," Gold shrugged. "Actually, that was my own pokémon."

"What level is it now?"

"Oh, uh ..." Gold still trained and collected pokémon as per Professor Oak's request, but did so from within the confines of his breeding centre. Traveling around the various different regions no longer held the same allure as it had during his adolescent years. After almost a decade of travelling on his lonesome, he'd decided to settle down and take up his deceased grandparents' breeding house.

He shrugged, petting the Horsea. "Still in the single digits, I think," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I'm still the best, though. Don't forget that."

Silver made a sound akin to a scoff. "We haven't tested that theory in a while," he said as his fingers absentmindedly lingered over the pokéball hatchets on his belt.

Gold noticed this, but didn't comment. No doubt he would come out the victor if they were to battle. After all, he had his powerful Typhlosion to rely on, the one that had completely dominated the famous Pokémon Master, Red. No one could possibly beat him. He clenched his fists, suppressing a blithe grin at the thought of facing Silver again.

Having noticed Gold's slight change in demeanor, Silver slipped a hand under the flaps of his coat and selected a pokéball. By now, he appeared to automatically know which ball held what pokémon (something that pleased Gold to no end). Proof that he had developed as a trainer, as years prior, he'd had to glance at them before making a selection.

Gold hopped up, turned on his heel, and called out for his roaming fire pokémon. When it rolled out of a nearby patch of grass upon hearing his call, he turned back around, tucking Horsea under his arm in the process. "Alright!" he yelled. "Six on six. Let's do this!"

Silvers lips quirked up into an almost unidentifiable smirk. "Let's," he said, shifting into a battling stance.

"Just like old times, eh?"

"Not at all."

* * *

Silver tried to cover his exhaustion, but Gold could see his chest heaving beneath his vinyl trench coat. Odd, one battle, and he was already reduced to a panting mess? Had he been pushing himself too hard recently? Were his pokémon tired, too? It hadn't been a fair battle, if that was the case.

After praising Typhlosion on a job well done, he resumed staring at Silver with what might have passed as a concerned expression. "Hey," he said eventually, when Silver failed to notice he was scrutinizing him. "Do you want a glass of water or something? You look, uh," he motioned uselessly with a hand. "Kinda' unwell."

Silver immediately snapped up his pokéballs and shoved them deep into his pockets, scowling, irate, at the kindly offer. Apparently, he hadn't changed much in eight years after all. "I'm fine," he assured Gold. "It was a…" a shrug. "Good battle."

Which he'd lost, Gold refrained from pointing out. Instead, he smiled, accepting Silver's half-assed compliment.

"You've gotten stronger," he murmured while maneuvering Horsea out from under his arm. Upon being removed from its dark crevice, it shivered, letting out a quiet whine, which made Gold's chest flutter with appreciation.

"Not strong enough yet," Silver replied, a little stunted in his words. Gold suspected he'd meant to say 'to beat you', but again, didn't allow his mammoth ego to get the best of him. He wanted the few times Silver came over to visit him to be pleasant memories, not times riddled with bitter arguments as to who was the better trainer (though it was obvious, in his opinion!).

"Well, they're not weak, in any case."

"I suppose…"

"No really, you've trained them well."

Silver seemed unsatisfied with that answer.

Now Gold could remember why their annual matches had eventually stopped. After a while, he had started feeling irked by the way Silver would avoid chatting after their battles, as if he was silently criticizing himself for being weak and too busy doing so to respond to any of Gold's after match speeches.

"Come on, Sil." He received a heated glare at the use of Silver's nickname. "Get inside. Have a cup of water of somethin'. Sick or not, you look like crap."

"Gee," Silver said dryly. "Thank you."

Gold offered him a sheepish grin to try to rectify his mistake. "Well, not that bad, but you could use some water, right? This is kinda out of your way, after all," he said on his way back towards his little vine embezzled house. "There's pokémon food, too, if you want to give your 'mons a snack before you leave."

There was a moment of silence on Silver's part, and Gold looked over his shoulder, puzzled. "What?" he asked, noting Silver's pensive look. "Something wrong?"

"No, ehm…"

"You're a terrible liar," Gold teased as he placed Horsea in a nearby pool of water.

"Perhaps because I don't lie regularly," Silver muttered with an accusing leer.

Gold grimaced. So he still remembered that one incident back in New Bark Town? Jeeze, they'd both been fourteen at the time, and he'd told Silver that Lyra had called him 'hot' as a joke. Which wasn't true, not in the least bit, but it'd been a joke, and he hadn't thought the other boy confident enough to approach the girl he liked.

Well, not anymore, but they'd been very hormonal at that age. Gold could still remember waking up in the morning with wet boxers, or even worse, pimples. Those had plagued him for the majority of his teenybopper years, and occasionally re-appeared when he neglected to shower for days on end due to an overwhelming workload. It seemed Silver had, for the most part, grown out of his own acne, though he'd had it even worse than Gold a few years prior.

"One time," Gold muttered, guilty. And then raised a finger, waving it like the pendulum in a grandfather clock. "You seriously know how to hold a grudge!"

Silver continued to leer, "I only hold them when I have a reason to."

"Not a very good reason."

"You would say that, wouldn't you."

Gold quirked an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked incredulously.

"Doesn't matter," Silver said, and entered Gold's house. He closed the door behind him so Gold almost ran straight into it.

Scowling, the smaller of the two boys let himself inside, and huffily made his way over to the sink where he proceeded to sloppily pour his guest a glass of cool water.

"I could have done it myself," Silver stated as he nevertheless accepted the glass. He drained its contents in one breath, and then passed it back, silently demanding more. Of course, Gold wouldn't deny his request. Not even while annoyed by his standoffish attitude. He turned back to the sink and refilled the glass, sliding it over the counter, towards Silver once it had been filled to the brim.

"So," Gold started conversationally. "Where have your adventures been taking you?"

Silver diverted his gaze. "Places," he replied.

"Oh, cool," he said, trying to filter out any traces of annoyance. "Uh, so what places?"

"Around Kanto."

"Anywhere in particular?"

"Nowhere worth mentioning."

There were times that Gold felt on the verge of shaking his pal, Silver, and this was one of those times. Was a straight answer really too much to ask for?

"Well, this has been a fun and enlightening conversation," he said wryly, leaning over the counter. "Come on, share a little. Where have you been?"

Silver placed his glass aside and fingered his wrist, and that's when Gold noticed the bandage wrapped around it. The long sleeve of his jacket obscured it almost completely, but he had seen enough bandages over the years to identify them from even a single, tiny, almost insignificant sliver. There was blood dotted on it, too. He frowned at the other boy. "Climbing mountains?" he asked. "Taking on trainers of the physical sort?" Motioned towards the wrist. "Didn't face the rock gym leader again, did you?"

"No," Silver snapped, disgruntled by Gold's persistence. "My life is none of your business. Stop asking."

"That isn't fair. I tell you all about my adventures." Not that there was much to tell, these days.

"About your babies? They're weak pokémon. I don't care to hear about them," he said, slipping back into that old, miserable little habit of verbally expressing his hatred for weak pokémon.

Gold almost rolled his eyes. Not this again. "Let's not start," he huffed. "This always ends the same."

"What?" Silver suddenly turned on him, moving in closer. "What do you mean by that?"

The close proximity panicked Gold, but he held his ground. Silver hadn't pushed him around in years. He doubted the other boy was going to return to doing so after putting so much effort into their friendship.

"You and your thing with weak pokémon," he managed to force out. "It's ridiculous. They might be weak in the beginning, but they're babies—of course they're going to be weak! Regardless, you should treat them with respect. All pokémon deserve it."

Silver opened his mouth, struggling to form words. "They're of no use to me if they can't find the strength to win. I need them for that purpose." He paused for a moment, before going on to say, "I respect them. My pokémon. Have no doubts about that, Gold." A glare. "We'll battle again later."

"Is that your way of proving your respect?" Gold asked, and he knew it was out of line, but he didn't much care.

Silver's jaw tightened. "I don't need to prove it."

"Yes, you do." Gold's conscience attacked him when he noticed the slight twitch developing beneath Silver's eyes. "But not to me," he finished.

"You're not seriously implying that I need to prove it to myself, are you?"

"Er, well…"

"Dork."

Gold laughed. "Does that still come as a surprise? I'm a great dork. The greatest."

"Hmph," Silver huffed, but he seemed pleased by the change in conversation.

"I'll take that as an agreement," Gold said with a grin. "Do you want something to eat?"

Considered for only a second. "No. I've got to get going. Professor Elm is expecting me."

"Oh." He hadn't heard from Professor Elm in almost a year.

"It's nothing serious," Silver assured him. "I'm picking up a folder."

"Containing what sort of information…?"

"Keep your nose out of my personal life, Gold."

With that, he turned on his heel and sped out of the house. Gold tried to catch up to him, but Silver had already reached the footpath by the time he managed to throw open the front door.

"Silver!" he cupped his hands around his mouth. "You better come back earlier this time."

No response, but he hoped the other boy had heard his request. There was only so long he could go without having someone human to chat to.


	2. Chapter 2

An entire month passed before Silver returned.

It was by chance that Gold caught him wandering around outside his kitchen window. His long red hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and his hands were pushed deep into his coat pockets, which appeared to be larger and baggier than usual. There was a medical patch sitting beneath his left eye, partially covering a fist-sized bruise, and his legs were even worse for wear, as he was limping on one and would occasionally reach down to grab the thigh of the other.

Gold almost tripped over his own feet as he leaped out of his house and towards his rival, eager to offer him assistance. "Jesus, Silver. You look terrible!"

Silver shrugged, turning to greet him with a raised hand. "Not as bad as you," he replied, gesturing towards Gold's messy bedroom hair and heart adorned boxers.

Gold opened his mouth to ask about the injuries, but decided upon a subtler means of getting answers as he recalled their previous conversation. He didn't need Silver running out on him again. He had enough trouble coercing him into these irregular once-a-month visits. He would have to do this the old fashioned way: like a spy from one of those crappy crime novels his mom had read to him as a toddler.

Problem was, he didn't have any fancy gadgets, and he most definitely wouldn't be able to trail Silver without being discovered. He would have to improvise. Preferably with pokémon; perhaps a Pidgey or a Diglet? After that, it would only be a matter of trying to decipher what they would have to tell him, if anything at all.

"It's six in the morning," Gold pointed out, and then pointed at the gradually rising sun to accent his response. "I'll make myself pretty later."

"As if that's possible." Silver limped past him, heading towards the front door. "Get inside. You're shivering."

And he was.

He hadn't even noticed.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Gold walked over to the front door and kicked it open, allowing himself and Silver inside.

"You really do look terrible, you know." He sat down on his couch and invited Silver to sit down next to him, but the elder boy ignored his offer and hopped up onto the kitchen counter. "Did you fall down some stairs?"

"Are you calling me clumsy?" Silver asked nonchalantly.

"Are you evading my questions?" Gold replied.

"Why are you so intent on asking them?"

Remembering his plans, Gold quickly amended, "I'm not! I was just…" he trailed off and pulled his feet up onto the couch, curling his toes into the warm fabric. "I just need to know if you'll need some, y'know, first-aid. I have a kit in the bathroom."

Silver regarded him with a disbelieving frown. "Alright…"

"Do you want to use it?"

"I don't need any first-aid."

"But—"

"I'm fine."

Gold didn't try and convince him otherwise, but stood up from the couch and approached his kitchen cabinet, pushing breakfast cereals and food cans aside in search of his medication basket. He retrieved a packet of painkillers and tossed them to Silver, who caught them with ease. Medication would at least alleviate some of the pain, though it would do little to heal the wounds. Physical detriments were something only his medical kit could conquer.

The packet was accepted with a bitter leer that Gold didn't think he was at all deserving of. He returned to his position on the couch and re-wrapped his arms around his thin legs, placing his chin on his knees. He watched intently as Silver popped out two tablets, hesitated, popped out a third, and swallowed them all dry. Apparently that was all he had needed, as he removed himself from the counter soon after and strode for the door—

Which Gold speedily blocked.

"Get out the way," Silver scowled, reaching under Gold's arm so he could start twisting the handle.

Gold exhaled deeply. "Couldn't you stay for a little longer?" he asked, almost pleadingly. He didn't want Silver to go back out there if he was just going to injure himself again.

Silver responded by carelessly pushing him aside.

Grudgingly, Gold allowed him to leave without another word.

After five minutes of procrastination, he sent a Pidgey out to follow Silver.

* * *

The bird pokémon was found on his step later that evening with a note tied around its little, twitching leg.

_'Send a Spearow next time,_

S.'

Gold crunched up the note, threw it to the ground, and picked up his Pidgey, bringing it inside so he could tend to its recently acquired wounds.

* * *

Silver didn't bother with pleasantries when he visited next. He grumpily pushed his way indoors and stole the covers off Gold's bed so he could sleep on the couch, muttering something about cold weather when Gold asked him why he didn't just sleep in the bedroom.

Arguing with him proved pointless, so Gold lowered himself down beside the couch and read comic books while Silver slept.

Maybe afterward he would be able to get some answers out of him.

At some point, Gold dozed off and ended up using the crook of Silver's knee as a pillow, who—strangely enough—had fallen asleep on his stomach.

When he finally woke up, it was late at night, he was lying on the couch, trussed up in his own quilts, and Silver was nowhere to be seen. While he was appreciative of the effort Silver had gone through to keep him in a state of rest, he was also incredibly disappointed.

* * *

The mid-day sun beat down on Gold's lightly singed shoulders. He reached around and scratched at the naked skin, hoping to reduce the flair of heat that was sending an unpleasant pricking sensation down the entirety of his back. It did little more than leave painful red indents across his already irritated skin, so he stopped, and twisted his multi-coloured cap around on his head, trying to at the very least shade the back of his neck.

He swiped the front of his palm over his sweaty forehead and continued working on his miniature garden. It had been his grandmas and grandpas, and he felt responsible for it now that they had passed away. He wouldn't let the plants die out simply because he was a horrid gardener. The flowers looked worse for wear, as he often forgot to water them, but the berries were flourishing wondrously now that it was summer.

"Augh-!"

Gold didn't realize he had been hit until after he had opened his eyes to find himself lying in a patch of mud. His head throbbed dully in the background, signaling an eventual loss of consciousness. A trail of cool liquid was making its way down the bridge of his nose and when he tried to wipe it away, his movements were so uncoordinated that he instead ended up poking himself in the eye. He tried to use that same arm to hitch himself up onto his elbows, but couldn't even manage that. The impact had left him incapable of doing more than waving his limbs about like a ragdoll on a single strand of string.

"This the kid?" a pleasant voice chirped. A woman's voice. He couldn't put a name to it.

His eyes were weighed down with a feeling of drowsiness. Unconsciousness was quick approaching, but he wanted to turn around, to see his attackers, to call out Typhlosion—anything but lay there and accept what was happening. He had to do this, damn it, or they might hurt his pokemon. Let him muster up the strength to push, and scratch, drag himself out of this muddle.

His breath came out in labored pants as he scrabbled uselessly at clumps of dirt.

"That's him," a male voice replied. It sounded familiar, like Silver's voice, but it couldn't possibly be him.

"This pipsqueak beat Red? Damn. He can take his hits well, at least." The air around him moved as a metal pipe just barely skimmed past his nose. He grimaced, rolling into himself.

"Just get it over with."

Gold's tongue refused to move when he tried to call out for assistance. He wouldn't have managed to form any words, anyway, as moments later, darkness overwhelmed him. Thankfully, before the pipe was brought down on his head a second time.

* * *

When he woke up, his eyes were crusty with lacrimal fluid and nose blocked, his mouth providing him with only a scarce amount of air. He immediately coughed and hacked up droplets of blood and panicked when his lungs refused to operate to their full capacity. A firm hand placed itself over his back and began rubbing soothing circles between his aching shoulder blades, but he moaned and shifted away, desperate to escape the confines of what felt like a moving vehicle. It was hard to tell as a blindfold covered the majority of his face. It covered his ears as well, muffling the conversing voices of his captors.

The hand returned despite his refusals and resumed rubbing his back. It helped even out his breathing pattern, but he didn't want it to. He didn't understand what was going on and much preferred hyperventilating over being touched, and made sure his captor knew this by shoving himself out of their arms whenever the opportunity arose.

An hour of traveling soon ended his resilience. His entire body felt like an over-sized glove, awkwardly fitted around broken bones, torn muscles, twisted veins and battered internal organs. His injuries weren't quite that extensive, but they might as well have been. Nausea was creeping up on him, along with the occasional bout of hot and cold flushes and a never-ending headache. The person trying to sooth his injuries remained throughout the car drive and didn't budge no matter how many times Gold protested. Eventually, when those fingers began to knead away an incoming headache, he relented enough to allow the slight pleasurable sensation to set in. It was the nicest thing he had felt all evening.

The abrupt halt of the engine stopped the massage short, however, and he let out an indignant squawk. "Nng-god—where?" Again, his tongue was flopping uselessly around his mouth.

A car door clapped shut, "Gonna go get something to eat. Stay here with the kid", and he tensed, using his tied hands to search out the car door handle.

"Stop," a gentle voice commanded. "Stay still so I can remove the blindfold."

Nails brushed his jaw as the blindfold was eased down his face and left to hang around his neck. Opening his eyes, he almost balked when he saw a blurry apparition (it was an apparition, right?) of Silver sitting before him.

"Gold?" Silver asked. Those soothing fingers settled down on his arms, eliciting a grimace. "Don't panic."

"D-don't pani—" he spluttered, incapable of forming coherent words. "You—I—why did you—"

"Calm down," Silver snapped, probably a little harsher than intended, because he glanced away, guilty, moments later. "I'll explain what's going on. Just let me make sure we're alone."

Gold didn't want an explanation. He wanted to be let free. He shuffled restlessly and pointed his chin down at the car door, trying to get the message across. Whether or not it was received, he didn't know, because Silver refused to look at him as he scanned the area outside the windows, checking for his apparent 'partner'.

"Alright," a somber look settled over Silver's features as he returned to Gold's front, and he shuffled in close, voice reduced to a quiet murmur. "There's a pokémon gang at large all over the regions. A few trainers have disappeared and…" Silver hesitated. "Elm asked me to help. I wanted to go in and kick those pathetic asses off of their pedestals, but he forced me to go undercover."

"We've dealt with…them before," Gold said slowly, words choppy and labored.

Shaking his head, Silver replied, "They aren't like Team Rocket. Sometimes they don't use pokémon to hurt you. If you they perceive you as a threat they just get rid of you. In any way possible."

The explanation brought about a feeling of confusion, followed by dread. "How am I…?"

"You were next. I managed to convince them that you were worth signing up."

"No. No, I'm not going to do that." Gold bit his bottom lip. "My Typhlosion could have—"

"It doesn't work like that, Gold!" Silver snapped. "They would have gotten you either way. You didn't even notice we were there before, did you?"

There was no point in trying to deny that. "You could have warned me…" he tried.

"They've got tabs on my phone, and I can't buy a new one without them knowing," Silver explained, and then leaned forwards, placing his hands on Gold's shoulders. His brow furrowed. "Just do as they say. We'll take them down from the inside and out."

Gold stared at him with eerily lucid eyes.

"…Just say yes, idiot," Silver said in hopes that it would prompt an affirmative reply.

Gold blinked, and let his gaze travel up to the ceiling of the car.

"Gold?" His companion murmured, concerned.

It took a moment, but he eventually spoke, "Okay," he agreed, voice no louder than a whisper. "My pokémon?"

"I have them."

"Can I…?"

"No. You'll have to wait until we arrive at base."

"…Mhm." Gold tried to show a strong face, but he was so exhausted. "Need to be alone."

"Yes, alright," Silver breathed out. "Yes. We do. You're concussed so…" He placed a cool hand on Gold's boiling forehead before slipping across the seats and stepping out of the vehicle.

"Silver?"

He quickly began his retreat. "I'll be back soon."


	3. Chapter 3

Silver was gone.

Left to suffer the aftermaths of sever head trauma, Gold lay motionless in the car, shoulder propped up against the nearest window, the one facing out towards an endless field of amber needles and the dying trees of which they had fallen from. The sun was still high in the sky, a disk-sized circle that ate away at the tendrils of darkness creeping in towards Gold's pupils. He blinked slowly to try and reduce the sharp pain that accompanied the warm glow, but to no avail. He would have to suffer through it until Silver returned.

While waiting, he tried to make sense of the situation. A new corporation had started its reign over the regions and its kingpin had decided to ensure that Gold, among others, wouldn't intervene; it was believable, but Silver's simple explanation left numerous answers to be desired. He would have further questioned him during their last conversation, but it had been rather hard to do so after a trauma induced fatigue had started to set in. It didn't help that he hadn't consumed any liquids since late last night. His brain didn't have the nutrients it needed to tend to his internal wounds. If he was lucky, when Silver returned he would have some water and food to help kick-start his recovery.

Under normal circumstances he would have started to formulate a plan by now. They already had infiltrating the base down, and access to their own pokémon, but how would they deal with the unconventional sources of violence? How would they avoid serious injury? What would they do if asked to hurt another trainer or their pokémon? Questions he couldn't hope to answer in his current beaten and battered state. Perhaps he would allow himself to drift into a brief slumber before trying to address any possible courses of action. After all, the little time he had on his lonesome was probably best used for recovering purposes, rather than waiting pointlessly for a friend who, more than likely, wouldn't return for another hour or so.

He finally let his eyelids fall shut. His entire body made its decent soon after, curling up on the car cushions, limbs tucked in as tight as they would go, chin resting between two sweaty collarbones. Apart from the occasional shiver, he remained motionless thereafter.

* * *

A click. Heat settled itself down next to his face, and then there was the shuffling of footsteps, followed by yet another click and a door being slammed shut. As Gold gradually reached consciousness, his senses picked up a variety of different disturbances; the smell of petrol, sweat, and grime, coming from the unidentified item placed down by his face; The texture of papyrus against his cheek, rough and unpleasant; unnatural heat seeping into the exposed flesh of his face.

And salt. He could smell salt.

He slowly raised himself up and looked down at a small, sweaty package, crumbled to the point of looking like a paper prune. He then turned to look over at the driver's seat, where Silver was sitting, hands on the wheel, head drooping forwards onto a set of white knuckles.

"Silver?" Gold asked hesitantly. He swung his legs over the side of his chair and grimaced, still afflicted by his injuries. "Are you okay?"

The elder boy twitched, but otherwise remained in his bent over position. His shoulder were quaking gently, telltales signs of great distress. It made Gold uncomfortable to think his friend was possibly crying.

"Silver?" he tried again.

This time, he received a scowl for his efforts. "Shut up," Silver muttered. "I brought you chips. Hurry up and eat them."

Hungrily, Gold licked his lips. "Oh, that's what it is," he said as he grabbed the packet and haphazardly tore it open, digging into the chips. "This is great, but could you answer my question?" he asked between mouthfuls. "Are you alright?"

Silver finally drew his head up and glanced back at his passenger. There were no tears rolling down his cheeks. In fact, he appeared to be fine apart from a trademark frown. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then drew a hand up through his dark red hair, awkwardly nodding his head. "Fine," he muttered. "I have an assignment now."

"An assignment?" Potato dribbled down Gold's chin and Silver looked disgusted by its presence.

"Try not to eat like an animal, Gold," he said, without much heat. "And yes, an assignment."

"Kinda' hard when my hands are tied. What sort of assignment?" Belly full of acid and icy, Gold considered multiple unpleasant possibilities. "You're not going to have to steal pokémon or something, are you?"

"You'd be better off not knowing," he replied evasively, returning to clutching the rubber of the steering wheel. His fingers looked about ready to split out of their skin covering.

"I could help," Gold offered, knowing full well there was absolutely nothing he could do to assist. He swallowed his chips and awkwardly pulled himself, with his bound hands, into the front-most part of the car and draped his belly over the small cube compartment that separated the driver and passenger seats.

"No, you couldn't." Painfully quiet, and Silver's form lowered that little bit more.

Gold placed his forehead on Silver's shoulder in a comforting gesture, half-expecting a violent response. But Silver didn't try to escape his affection and even let his head incline the slightest bit to the side so the strands of their dark hair could intertwine. Gold smiled, and they both indulged in a moment of silence.

"You can tell me," Gold eventually said, staring at the nape of Silver's neck as he spoke. He would have removed himself before speaking, but the angle was perfect, and he couldn't bring himself to shift away.

"Didn't I just say you'd be better of not knowing?" Silver squirmed as Gold breathed on his neck. "Will you stop that?"

"Stop what?" the other trainer slipped forwards so his mouth was beside Silver's jaw instead. "Asking questions?"

Silver clicked his tongue in half-hearted annoyance. "No, breathing on me."

"Oh!" At first he merely sucked in his lips, but, unable to keep them withdrawn for more than a minute, resigned to shuffling back into his seat. He dragged the chip packet onto his lap and ate what was left with vigor. "Are you going to tell me what this assignment is?"

Silver grudgingly relented, "Since you're not going to shut up about it, yes." His anger quickly evaporated. He let out a sigh, low, mellow and thrumming, that clearly expressed his displeasure at the circumstances. "We're going to be raiding a small village. They hold some rare pokémon, and despite that, don't have sufficient security. We'll take the pokémon, dispose of the people, and leave."

A fire-laced scowl came from Gold's tightly pursed mouth. What they were forcing Silver to do was beyond wrong. Small children would be in that village, and they were going to dispose of them? What did that entail? Anger rippled through his gut and he twisted his hands, flustered beyond belief.

There really was nothing he could do. But he struggled anyway, feeling rough, tawny rope bite into his sensitive skin.

"That's horrible!" It came out haggardly as another headache was brewing beneath his skull. "We've got time to sabotage their plans, don't we? Traveling across the city takes days. Sometimes even a week, if you come across hindrances. We could warn the people before we arrive at..." He trailed off. It occurred to him that he didn't actually know what they would be doing once they arrived at their desired location. Even more distressing was the fact that he didn't know the name of this gang, nor when its main base was located.

"We can't. There's a time limit," Silver replied, and as if on cue, divulged the name of the gang. "Muspelhiem has a set of rules all its followers must take into accord. Disobey them, and you'll be tracked down."

"Muspelhiem?" That was a completely foreign name to Gold.

"It's some mythological name." Silver was quick to wave off the subject. "Nothing worth looking into. They're not obsessed with fire pokémon or anything, just with pokémon in general."

"Where's their main base?" Gold decided to ask. "And what are we going to do when we get there?"

"You'll be put through initiation," Silver said. "They have multiple main bases, one in each region. We'll be going to the one in Ecruteak City."

"What happens in initiation?" Gold pushed his chip packet aside so he could awkwardly drag himself into the front passenger seat.

"Don't know," Silver replied. He shrugged a shoulder. "They personalize the tests."

"Tests?" That didn't sound good. "How many?"

"They'll tell you when you arrive."

"How many did you finish before they let you in?"

An exhale. "Five."

Gold grit his teeth. That explained the wounds he'd had a few months back. "Looks like you aced them," he said sympathetically.

Silver looked about ready to incinerate flesh as he twisted the car key and started the engine, pushing down on the pedal with little regard as to the danger speed posed. They violently leapt forward and began bumpily making their way down the road.

"By the way," Gold said while squishing himself up against a door, terrified by Silver's unceremonious driving. "Could you remove this rope?"

"No," Silver said simply, and they continued down the road at neck-break speeds.

* * *

All in all, Gold thought he was taking the situation pretty well. Considering that yeah, he had been beaten over the head with a pipe before being thrown into the back of a smoldering hot car. Thankfully, his concussion had started to ebb away, and he was allowed to comfortably situate himself up against a cool glass window, now.

But he could have done without the rope cutting off the blood flow to his fingers. They were starting to take on a purplish tinge, which worried him more with each passing moment.

"Could we stop?" Gold asked as he carefully inched closer to his companion. "I'm going to die over here if I don't get some water."

"Don't be a baby." The jerk sounded completely calm. He'd probably had his fill of water back at the last stop. "We'll stop for the night after a few more hours."

Gold glared at the placid face, which paid him absolutely no attention. "Come on, stopping at a hotel in this town won't slow us down. Since we've got my pokémon, I'll get Typhlosion to help us out tomorrow. He'll be able to get this car running way faster."

"Fast enough to ram us into a tree, I bet," Silver muttered, impatience just flicking into his voice. "You couldn't wait an hour?"

"I've been waiting multiple hours," Gold complained, throwing up his hands. "Look. They're going to drop off if you don't stop and get me some water."

Silver eyed the fingers disdainfully. "Water won't help that."

"But still!"

"No."

"But I'm thirsty! Come on! I just got over a concussion, I need water!"

"It's just an hour."

"But Silver, there's a pokémon center right there."

"What?" Silver glanced out the window, and there was indeed a pokemon center just a few blocks away from them.

"See," Gold said, the exact image of a conceited child.

Gritting his teeth, Silver slowly swerved the car towards the pokémon center and the large, looming mart building sitting beside it. "Are you happy now?" he asked as he pulled up in the mart packing lot.

"Very." Gold said on his way out the car. It took him a bit to pull the handle, thanks to his aching hands.

Silver slid around the boot of the car and strode up to Gold, wrapping an arm around his shoulders so he could coerce him towards the pokémon center. He shuffled through his pockets for a moment, blindly searching, and then grimaced and drew out a now-bloodied knife.

Gold's glee fell to the pit of his belly. "Do you need that?" he asked.

"Sometimes." Silver grabbed Gold's hands—grip tight, painful—slipped the knife between the palms and began to saw through the rope. "Not regularly."

"Only occasionally, then?"

"Not even that much."

Relief played its way across Gold's features. One last yank, and the rope around his wrists slipped free and to the dirty gravel ground below. He quickly shoved his hands into the spaces under his arms to try and sooth the burning pain that accompanied the blood flowing back into his fingers. "Great," he ground out, deciding to leave the subject be. He glanced back at the vehicle and noted the night black exterior. "Let's get going."

Silver mumbled something of an agreement before leaving for the pokémon center. After signing themselves in and buying some food to bring into their room, they made their way downstairs, to their temporary lodgings, and let themselves inside.

The set up was rather spartan. Two beds, a kitchen area, a lounge area, and a bathroom. It looked like something you might sleep in whilst running with the army. The table was a small green fold out one, so they had to screw in another length of surface area before sitting down to eat their chosen meals. Which was just beef thrown onto a plate, so Gold wasn't too enthusiastic about putting effort into shoving together the table when he would have happily eaten in his bed, something Silver considered unsanitary and thus didn't allow him to do.

He polished off the last of his beef before Silver had even managed to chew through a quarter. Quirking an eyebrow, Silver passed him one of their many bottles of water which was speedily sucked into his void of a stomach. Gold let out a contented sigh after draining the bottle, stretched his arms back, up over his head, and let his tired bones snap and crackle into their respective places. He then grabbed the entire packet of purchased water and plopped down in front of the television so he could rest his legs, watch the news, and drink simultaneously.

Silver joined him soon after finishing the most of his meal. "What's on?" he asked, positioning himself behind the other boy. His long legs were on either side of Gold, and his sharp elbows were resting on his knees.

Gold cantered his head until he was looking straight up at Silver. "Not much. They've just been interviewing some trainers." He started on yet another bottle of water. "And it looks like." Swallowed a mouthful. "Looks like the reporters lost a match against them."

"No other news?" Silver asked hopefully.

Gold went to passively shrug his shoulders, but the slight movement sent a sharp pain running down his bruised neck and he instead cried out.

Silver jumped in response, startled. "What, what?" his voice took on a hurried tone. "What is it?"

For a moment, Gold felt a renewal of sharp stinging as he tried to respond, but he managed to shoulder it off and sent a half-grin towards Silver's knee, since he couldn't look any higher without hurting himself.

"I was in a weird position when I woke up." He willed the discomfort out of his voice. "I must have hurt my neck."

"Oh, well…" Silver paused, then a peculiar edge entered his voice. "I'll give you a hand."

"How do you suppose you'll—_oh_."

Appreciation surged through his body when Silver began massaging his shoulders. "Mm. Didn't know you meant that literally," Gold smiled in a particularly appreciative way. "Thanks," he added, as an afterthought.

Silver stayed passive as he worked. His fingers kneaded against tight muscles hard enough to coax them into loosening, and then would gently roll down the bumps of Gold's spine, pushing them just enough to induce pleasure rather than pain.

It was these quiet moments that Gold appreciated the most.

So many times, they had spent their hours together battling rather than relaxing against one another. Sure, he adored battling, that was evident in the way he eagerly initiated matches whenever a trainer was nearby, but during moments like these he realized that deepening his bonds with other human beings was just as important as deepening his bonds with his pokémon.

He knew Silver to be a novice at making bonds with both pokémon and people. He had observed Silver struggling to make friends out of either species many times in the past. It was only Gold's tough exterior that had made him able to put up with the other boys misplaced anger during their befriending. Most other people gave up on him without regret, but Gold, honestly, liked how he was, and had forced his presence upon the other boy on multiple occasions so he wouldn't be discarded.

Gold looked downwards, at the glowing TV screen and its unintelligible image. Focusing on his thoughts, he no longer was able to make anything out of it.

After this, they would be experiencing a multitude of trials and tribulations.

But they would be pushing through them together, and that made it manageable.

He wondered, briefly, how Silver had dealt with being on his own for so long. Gold had always had someone to depend on. His mother, Lyra, his other friends, his pokémon, multiple gym leaders, and even the elite four had taken to him, eventually. Though he had dragged his way through the pokémon world with nail and tooth, he was certain that Silver had had to struggle his way down the same path in a similar manner, while completely alone.

The thoughts made it a little easier to accept that he would soon be part of a conspiracy involving one of the most renowned crime lords the world had ever seen. Greater than Giovanni, even, if they'd managed to stop someone like Silver in his tracks.

But…what was the saying…The larger they are, they harder they fall? Yeah. That's would be the eventual outcome.

Gold moaned as Silver slid down to the middle of his spine and gently pushed. He bit his knuckles, stifling any further appreciative sounds.

"Such a girl," Silver murmured at some point.

Gold's head was agonizingly heavy, so he didn't bother trying to retort with a comment regarding the length of Silver's hair. There were multiple weak spots on his body that his mother had tickled when he was a child, and Silver had managed to locate one of them. He was practically purring by the time Silver finished.

He looked back, expectant, when Silver drew away and reached for the remote, turning off the TV.

"We should get some sleep." Silver dropped the remote onto the couch, stood up, stared at it, and then grabbed it and placed it on the armrest, where it belonged.

Gold snorted.

Silver glared.

They exchanged these expressions until Gold rolled over and began stripping off his sweat laden clothes. Which reminded him, what was he going to wear once these became crusted with dirt? And they would very soon, because there was no way in hell Gold would be able to resist running around the wilderness when they finally reached Ecruteak City.

He looked to Silver for answers. "Hey," he said, throwing his dirty pants at the other boys face. Silver gasped and batted them away. "What am I going to wear after these get dirty?"

"Nothing if you continue to throw your clothes at me!" Silver yelled as he threw the offending object over the couch.

"Okay, okay," Gold lifted his hands, feigning innocence. "I was just wondering, since I doubt you want me walking around naked."

"I never said that." Silver leered at him.

And Gold faltered, bemused, before letting out a long string of stifled chuckles.

"What?" Silver asked, nonplussed.

"I never knew you felt that way, Sil," Gold purred, grinning devilishly wide.

After rolling his eyes, Silver began pulling off his own attire. "You're such a kid," he grumbled while removing his jacket. He folded it into a neat little square and tucked it under the bed. This sequence continued until all his clothes, save for his boxers, had been neatly put away.

Meanwhile, Gold left his clothes strewn about various areas of the room.

Silver took one look at the mess, and slapped his hands over his eyes. "How have you managed to live by yourself for so long?"

"Huh?" Gold squeaked. "What?"

"Nevermind," Silver sighed as he slipped beneath his covers. "Turn off the lights."

Already curled around his quilts, Gold groaned at this order, but drew himself out of bed like the semi-compliant partner he was. The switch was all the way across the room, past various windows, so he was shivering by the time he returned to his bed. And he returned with enough speed to nearly push all his quilts, along with his pillow, over the edge of the flimsy mattress.

A split second later, and he was face down in all his mess, fast asleep.

Silver envied his ability to fall into a slumber so easily. He himself was a light sleeper who woke up at the slightest of disturbances. Which was rather embittering, when, partway though the night, he was informed of Gold's blocked nose by a high-pitched, screeching sound.

It was so very tempting to grab a pillow and smother him with it.

But he didn't, because that would probably cause more noise that the blocked nose.

Silver shoved a pillow over his ear and tried to refrain from having a tantrum.


End file.
